


The Neighborly Thing To Do

by aliciameade



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, F/F, Masturbation, Neighbors, Shameless Smut, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:00:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22155916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliciameade/pseuds/aliciameade
Summary: What happens when Beca's not the only one to take notice that her new bedroom's window looks into that of her new neighbor?
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 6
Kudos: 250





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is from a few years ago and has only lived in my compilation work. I'm breaking out the longer form stories from that. :)
> 
> Off an [@rpfunstuff](http://rpfunstuff.tumblr.com) prompt of “imagine your otp living across the street from each other and both can see into the other’s bedroom window” and at the desire of [@bechloe-beatchell](http://bechloe-beatchell.tumblr.com).

* * *

Beca likes her new house.

No, that’s not accurate.

She loves it.

It’s hers. She’s worked her ass off for a decade and she’s a homeowner at twenty-eight. It’s not the mansion some of her producing peers have, but it’s respectable for a single twenty-something first-time homeowner, and she knows she’ll get up into those Hollywood Hills eventually.

The neighborhood is nice, too. It’s lined with other single-family homes similar in size and design to her own white house with its gray roof and black shutters. Green boulevards and oak trees that arched from both sides of the street to meet in the middle and it was super domestic and “adult,” but she couldn’t splash down the bachelorette pad cash yet.

She’s standing in her yard - she has a _yard_ now, that she’s going to have to _mow_ (or pay someone to mow) - supervising the movers unloading the truck that toted her entire life across Los Angeles from her studio apartment to her two-bedroom house when she sees her presumed new neighbor bounce down the front steps and down the walkway to the sidewalk where they wait for the movers to cross with Beca’s couch. Beca can’t help but watch, wondering what type of people live in the area and this particular neighbor is...well Beca’s not blind; she has eyes. Her neighbor is pretty, at least from a distance, with wavy cinnamon-colored hair and a nice little figure that’s being shown off with white short-shorts and a sleeveless teal blouse and flip-flops and -

“Hi!”

Beca blinks, not realizing this neighbor has walked right up to her until she’s spoken. “Oh, hey.”

“I’m Chloe,” the woman says, flashing a brilliant smile as she offers her hand for shaking.

Beca shakes it and she has to look away because those eyes are going to bore a hole into her soul if she looks at them too long. “Beca.”

“Moving in?”

She bites her tongue to stop the answer that probably would include the words ‘Captain Obvious.’ “Yep!”

“Awes! And your husband’s unpacking?”

Beca’s head nods with an internal laugh. “It’s just me.” She sees the other girl bite her lip for a second and she has to look away again, taking the moment to shout instructions to the movers with the boxes they’re carrying labeled _VINYLS_.

“You have this whole big house to yourself?”

This Chloe sure likes to ask a lot of questions… “Yeah. I mean, it’s not _that_ big.” She’s two seconds from sharing too much personal information with this stranger and stops herself to redirect. “What about you? You got a husband over there?”

Chloe’s laugh is high-pitched and delightful. “Oh my gosh, definitely not. I live with my roommate, Jessica.”

Beca quirks a smile at that. She knows the cautionary lingo. She’s had ‘roommates’ before. “Jessica?”

“Yeah! Been friends for years. I’d invite you over to meet her but she’s at her boyfriend’s this weekend.”

_Oh. Actual roommates._ “That’s cool. I’m busy with all this anyway.” She gestures at the moving truck which looks to be nearly empty.

Chloe fidgeted for a few seconds and then bounced a little. This girl seemed very bouncy. “Well, I was just on my way to pick up a few things at the grocery store down the street. Nice day, so I’m walking. I’d be happy to show you around the neighborhood, or tell you where things are and how to avoid the school zones.”

Beca finally offers a genuine smile. It’s hard to play it stand-offish with this chick. “That’d be cool.”

“Yay! Well, I’ll let you get back to it. Welcome to the neighborhood!” Chloe’s hand touches her forearm for the briefest second and then she’s gone and Beca turns to watch her walk away.

“Nice,” she says, smiling to herself.

* * *

After a dinner consisting of pizza from the first place she can find on Yelp! that delivers, she’s in her second-floor bedroom with a beer that successfully traveled from her old place without breaking, for which she’s grateful. It’s the only room that is a major priority for her to unpack since it contains most of her life, which will be redistributed to her new extra rooms when she gets around to it. So far, she’s emptied three boxes and filled one with the stuff to be relocated and she has the entire weekend to work so she calls it quits for the night.

She gets comfortable in bed, leaning against the headboard with the lights off, her headphones on, and her computer in her lap to spin through the track she’s been tinkering with all week when a light catches her eye.

She looks up to see the source is one of the windows on Chloe and Jessica’s house. Her own window lacks any covering, and probably will for a while as hanging curtains or blinds is not something she feels very skilled in doing. But the window directly across from hers is covered, a thin, light-colored fabric that’s letting plenty of light out but doing its job to maintain privacy, as Beca can’t see anything but a square of yellow light.

Something compels her to watch anyway - maybe it’s the fact that her neighbor is smokin’ hot and who knows what she could see? She sees a shadow move through the room a moment later, in and out of the frame, and then in again to stop almost in the center of the window, and she must be standing kind of close to the curtain as her form is fairly clear and Beca can definitely make out the fact that Chloe’s going through the motions of tying her hair into a ponytail.

It’s followed by the very distinct motion of a shirt being lifted up and off and she gasps and drops down to lay flat in her bed so she can’t see, because _wow_ that was like...not okay.

She snaps her laptop closed and stares at the ceiling, heart racing and arguing with herself to sit up and see what else that silhouette is doing, but instead she sets her computer on the floor and forces herself to sleep.

* * *

Beca wishes she could say she was surprised when her doorbell rang the next afternoon and she opened the door to find Chloe on her step, a plate of brownies in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

“Sorry for just showing up,” she says as Beca steps aside to let her in. “We didn’t exchange numbers or I would have texted you. Kind of old school just dropping by with a housewarming gift like this.” She holds up her offerings and Beca realizes she should relieve her of them.

“It’s cool,” she says, accepting her gifts. She’s not knowledgeable enough about wine to know whether or not the bottle of red is considered ‘good,’ but wine is wine. “Should I open this now?”

“If you want.” Chloe smiles and makes herself at home on the couch.

“Okay, I just have to find a corkscrew. And I think I packed my silverware...umm…” She looks around her kitchen and the half-dozen boxes waiting to be sliced open.

“I have one!” Chloe was up off the couch again and with her in the kitchen, tool in hand.

“You always carry a corkscrew?” She watches Chloe slice the foil off the bottle and work the coiled metal down through the cork with expert swiftness.

“No, but you just moved in and I brought it in case you weren’t unpacked yet.” She smiles as she pulls the cork free with a satisfying _pop._ “And I was right. Do you have glasses, or should I have brought those, too?”

“I have plastic cups,” she answers, opening the box she remembers intentionally tossing in a partial sleeve of Solo cups into for when she would need a cup but not have her regular glasses unpacked yet. Like now.

“To new neighbors,” Chloe prompts as they sit on the couch, turned to face one another. “I think we're going to be really fast friends.”

Beca tilts her head a little at that added comment. It feels laced with something more than casual and she savors the anticipatory feeling it gives her. “Cheers.”

* * *

Three weeks pass and Beca is mostly unpacked. Her walls are still bare, but she's finished living out of boxes.

She hasn't got around to buying blinds or curtains or something and while she's been hyper-aware of the potential to witness something next door, she hasn't seen more than a shadow now and then. She goes about her business getting ready for bed every night without thinking much of anything.

That is, until tonight when she notices that the curtain to that mystery room is drawn for the first time that she's seen, and she can't help but stop and look because the light is on and it's dark out and it's made obvious that the room is a bedroom, a bed in plain sight which has clearly been slept in and hastily made, a few items of what she assumes are clothing strewn about it.

She sees Chloe a moment later, plopping down on the bed. She's dressed, thank God, but she's looking up talking to someone obscured by the curtain that impedes her line of sight just enough. Chloe's talking, that much she knows, but she's not a lip reader.

And then Chloe's crossing her arms at her waist and pulling her shirt up and off and Beca gasps loud enough that she covers her mouth as if Chloe can hear her.

Chloe has _company._

Beca cracks her knuckles one by one with her thumb, debating doing the polite thing and ignoring it or...maybe watching.

It makes her feel like a perv but she can't look away, because Chloe's smiling up at someone and she's reaching behind her back and unhooking her bra and...and now she's seen her neighbor’s breasts. And yeah, she knew Chloe was hot from Day One, but wow.

Chloe's arms are out, reaching for the shadow, and Beca holds her breath, waiting to see who the dude is. She immediately had a hundred questions - who is he, did they just meet, what's his name, what does he do, what does she see in him - and she sees hands lock with Chloe's and Chloe's lying back and her partner leans into view and the curtain of straight blonde hair and curves on the person who is definitely lacking all manner of clothing clue her in to the fact that it is very much _not_ a dude that is lying on top of her neighbor right now. She's flooded with a multitude of emotions, the most notable being shock, relief, and arousal.

Because, obviously, Chloe's straight. Or, was. Or she thought she was.

“Hot damn,” she says to herself and immediately feels like an idiot, but she feels like maybe she has a chance with this for now and it feels even more wrong to be standing here watching...well she can't really see anything now that that chick’s made herself at home on top of Chloe, but it feels even more wrong to watch because fast forward a day or a week or a month and if maybe they're dating, how weird will this moment have been??

Or maybe they would laugh about it.

“Okay, walk away. Just walk away.” Her feet don't immediately comply with her command but when Chloe and her blonde hook-up roll and Chloe is straddling the girl with her back to the window she _flees_.

* * *

The thing about bearing witness to the events of Chloe’s boudoir is that the visuals have lodged themselves in Beca’s brain. She keeps replaying it.

The way Chloe sat down on the foot of her bed and how her assuredly silky red hair flowed over her shoulders, bouncing with the impact. How she smiled - not the bright smile Beca was used to, but something a little different. The way she looked removing her own shirt, and more so the way she looked removing her own bra, and more so than both of those, the way her breasts...were there. And the way she reached for her lover and pulled the woman down only to roll her over and take control and…

Chloe’s light is off tonight, and her curtain is mostly closed, though Beca had seen the light on earlier when she wandered through her room to get ready for bed. Her own light is off now, too, and she lay in bed staring at the shadows the streetlights cast on her ceiling of tree branches. She’s warm. Tingly. She shifts her legs a little, remembering what she’s seen flooding back to her and refusing to leave her alone. It heats her up and despite the fact that her hand’s already on its way, her conscience is waging a battle with itself because she knows it’s going to be Chloe she thinks about while she does this, which is maybe kind of weird because she’s Beca’s neighbor...but she’s Beca’s _hot_ neighbor who very clearly enjoys sleeping with women and she hasn’t gotten laid since she moved and maybe it’d be fun to fantasize about the hot redheaded neighbor and...whoops she already is.

* * *

Weeks pass. No, they aren't dating. She's seen Chloe twice since she gained insight into Chloe's personal life, one encounter included meeting roommate Jessica who was a blonde but not the same blonde she had witnessed in Chloe's bedroom after Chloe invites her to join them for a movie and Chinese take-out.

The curtain has been closed most of the time, and part of Beca feels like Chloe somehow knows what Beca saw, which she knows is ridiculous and impossible.

Beca's own window has blinds now, and they didn't come easily. She had to ask the guy at Home Depot that sold them to her how to install them, read the instructions, and watch three instructional videos on YouTube and she still managed to get them crooked the first two tries, but she finally got them mostly level. The blinds help her forget that she can see her hot redheaded neighbor who may or may not be a lesbian but is at the very least not completely straight.

That weekend she reunites with a “roommate” of her own at a bar and brings her home.

She admittedly forgets about closing her blinds until there's a head between her legs and then she just doesn't give a fuck. Maybe enjoys it a little, the thought that Chloe might look over and witness her heels digging into this girl’s back.

* * *

Beca has to do a double-take the next night when she’s at her window, ready to lower her blinds.

Chloe’s curtain is completely drawn open, and Chloe’s blonde friend is back. Beca knows this because the blonde friend’s naked back is pressed up against the window. Hands pop in and out of view over the blonde’s shoulders and around her back, once or twice dropping all the way down to squeeze the girl’s ass and then they disappear. There are flashes of red that accompany the tilting of the blonde’s head and then there are hands tangled in blonde hair to pull the girl down and Chloe’s face is revealed, eyes closed as the girl sucks on her neck, and Beca can tell Chloe is, at the very least, topless.

Beca’s fingers twist and untwist the cord that’s been frozen in her hand for several minutes now. She’s just standing and watching this happen in front of her, in the indoor version of broad daylight, both of their rooms lit up like Christmas. But Chloe is definitely distracted and Beca is growing increasingly distracted and she maybe allows her free hand to wander a little, rubbing back and forth across her stomach as it decides whether to move up or down in its journey.

It decides to move north and she’s only half-conscious of the fact that her hand is under her shirt to feel herself up as she watches the scene play out in front of her.

She’s jolted out of her peep show viewing when she realizes Chloe’s eyes are open.

And she’s looking right at Beca.


	2. Chapter 2

Chloe likes her new neighbor.

She’s kind of mysterious and a little awkward while still maintaining a decent but not excessive level of confidence, and she’s either independently successful or a trust fund baby to be moving into this neighborhood all by herself. She thinks they would make good friends. Plus, that streak of standoffishness that underlies everything she says in their first encounter in front of her new house only makes Chloe want to befriend her even more.

And she likes that this Beca girl isn’t married.

She invites herself to Beca’s house the next afternoon after her freshly baked brownies have cooled and are arranged on a plate she won’t mind not getting back. She feels kind of like Bree Van de Kamp on “Desperate Housewives,” strolling to her new neighbor’s house with baked goods and booze.

Beca’s house is similar in layout to her own, obviously built around the same time by the same contractor as this particular area of Los Angeles was developed. The stairs are in the same place, and she assumes the bedrooms are up there like they are in her own home.

Her theory is confirmed that evening. She’s reading in bed on her Kindle when a square of light catches her eye. The window on Beca’s house opposite her own is lit up. She looks for a few seconds, curious but not wanting to be invasive. The room is quite obviously in a state of just-moved-in. From her angle, she can see the tops of a few boxes, some large items that are still wrapped in moving blankets propped up against a wall, and, when curiosity gets the best of her and she sits up a little straighter, a bed that is still bare from its relocation.

Beca crosses the room holding what looks to be a beer and Chloe forces her eyes back to her book, stealing glances now and then when motion catches her eye. Beca’s busy, moving things here and there.

The room falls dark a bit later, Beca never reappearing, but Chloe knows she’s there, having turned off the light before climbing into bed. She watches the darkness for a few more seconds before switching off her e-reader to turn in for the night.

* * *

Chloe quickly grows to enjoy the fact that she has a private (not so private?) window into Beca’s life. It’s become part of her routine, like red wine and popcorn to watch TGIT on ABC. She needs to be in bed early enough that she can watch Beca do whatever she’s going to do that evening in her bedroom.

She spares a thought to wondering if, since she can see into Beca’s house, if Beca’s ever seen into her house and, if so, what she’s seen. Chloe’s been so used to the house being empty, she stopped thinking about the need for discretion like that.

Chloe’s watched her unpack, moving things out of one box into another. The boxes eventually disappeared. The walls were still undecorated, but she could see things waiting to be hung—an abstract painting that Chloe pondered every time she saw it, some framed photos, and one of those gold records she sees pop stars get and she wonders if it’s real or one of those souvenir ones.

Beca hadn’t been particularly forthcoming about her personal life over their wine and brownies that day, redirecting most of the conversation back to Chloe, which she didn’t mind because she loves talking, but now she wishes she knew more about the girl. Maybe if she hadn’t talked so much she would know what Beca does for a living. She can’t even Google her; she doesn’t know her last name.

The mystery makes her all the more fascinating.

It also makes Chloe...needy. She’s starting to want what she can’t have, or at least doesn’t have—yet.

It’s what’s brought her and Jessica to one of their usual haunts, an LGBT-friendly club that offers her multiple options. Jessica’s a good wingman, not that Chloe needs one, but they always have a good time dancing and ogling Chloe’s possible conquests.

Tonight, the girl with the silky straight blonde hair who she’s repeatedly caught staring at her all night is her chosen prize.

She takes the girl home, Jessica opting to meet up with her boyfriend, and Chloe has the house to herself. She’s elated when the girl lets her leave the lights on; Chloe likes to see what she’s doing to better appreciate the physical beauty of whomever she’s with. She undresses the girl and sits on the bed expectantly but she's just as much of a flirt as Chloe, teasing her by staying just out of reach.

Chloe finally convinces the girl to come to her, pulling her down into bed only to take matters into her own hands and roll them so she can be on top.

* * *

Chloe’s up in the middle of the night. Her phone says it’s 3:07 am when she’s woken up by the need to pee. She moves somewhat blindly, knowing the route to and from the bathroom and how to not run into things like the dresser or doorways or the shoes she remembers leaving by her closet instead of putting them _in_ her closet.

She’s crawling back into bed when curiosity gets the best of her. She wonders if Beca happens to be awake at this ungodly hour, and if she is, what is she doing?

She’s peeking around the curtain, trying to be inconspicuous, but Beca’s light is off. Apparently she still hasn’t gotten around to installing blinds or a shade or a curtain, and Chloe’s not totally sure how she can stand to sleep in a bedroom that is lit up with so much morning light. And it’s while she’s considering this, and whether or not Beca wears a sleep mask to combat the issue, that her eyes start to adjust to the darkness and she can make out the outline of her bed, and the wrinkled bedding that covers it, and the lump beneath it that would be Beca. She looks, telling herself just ten more seconds when she notices the lump is moving.

Slowly.

Rhythmically.

A car drives down their street and the headlights catch Beca’s window. It’s so, so brief, but it lights her up in a spotlight long enough that Chloe can see _exactly_ what Beca was doing in bed, eyes closed, bedding pushed almost to her knees; she’s nude and very alone.

It makes heat rush through her and she tries to press closer to the window to get a better look at her cute, mysterious neighbor who is loving herself quite intimately at the moment. Now that she knows what is happening, it’s easier to make out the movements in the darkness, and what she can’t see, her mind fills in the blanks to.

She watches, something in the back of her mind trying to tell her this is wrong, but she can’t help but ignore that voice in favor of the vision that’s pieced itself together in her brain. She watches until Beca’s still, and she slips back into her own bed, pulse throbbing everywhere but nowhere is it stronger than between her legs and she doesn’t let herself feel guilty about reaching down to relieve the pressure.

* * *

Chloe bumps into Beca a few days later, both of them wheeling their trash cans to the curb at the same time. “Hi!” she says, with a wave.

“Oh, hey.”

Beca seems like she’s trying to pretend Chloe isn’t there, but that doesn’t stop her. “If you’re not busy later, do you want to come over? Jessica and I are going to find something to watch on Netflix. Order Chinese, just generally be lazy.”

She watches Beca’s fingers tap the lid of her trash can a few times before the girl turns and fully regards her. “Yeah, okay, sure. Why not?”

She seems nervous and Chloe smiles, finding it adorable. But a memory from what she witnessed the other night slides into place and she bites her lip and for a second she considers playing bashful and looking away, but that rarely got her anywhere with shy girls like this one who usually need her to be the one to make the first move. So instead she makes eye contact with the girl, letting herself remember what Beca doesn't know she saw until Beca suddenly blushes scarlet and stutters something about needing to go.

* * *

Their movie night is fun. Beca’s a pretty chill person, if guarded, and Chloe finds it easy to sink into conversation with her. Beca’s also easily flustered, but she recovers quickly, usually with a comment that does a decent job at flustering Chloe in return.

Beca has an air of confidence about her; it’s a different type of confidence than Chloe’s used to. It’s one that says she’s sure of who she is, and has nothing to prove to anyone. But she’s a touch shy, not a lot, just enough to be cute, and she doesn’t recoil when Chloe decides to curl up against her on the couch while they watch the movie with Jessica.

Beca even lifts her arm to let it drape around Chloe’s shoulders.

* * *

Chloe finds herself disappointed when she notices Beca has blinds on her window. She enjoyed her secret insight into Beca’s life.

It’s a Saturday night. Chloe’s sitting in bed with a glass of red wine determined to finish her book when the square of light across the way illuminates. She looks up out of habit but by this point, she knows that the blinds are down and closed.

Only this time, they aren’t.

It had been a gorgeous spring day, and it seems Beca’s left her window open and blinds raised. Chloe’s own window is open to let in the breeze.

It’s just like old times.

Only Beca’s not alone.

There’s a girl with her, with short brown hair, and Chloe can see they’re talking. The sound of their laughter carries her way in the wind and Chloe reaches over to turn off her bedside lamp to watch in the relative safety of the darkness.

She’s never seen Beca have company, whether through this intrusive method of observation or simply seeing a car other than Beca’s parked in front of her house, nor anyone coming or going. It’s only then that Chloe realizes it’s well past the hour for the casual visitor, and it’s the moment the thought registers that Beca’s pulled the girl close to kiss her.

Chloe sucks in a breath, the pleasant surprise that Beca likes girls, and that she’s about to watch it happen like her own private X-rated website.

She watches Beca strip the girl, and she watches the girl return the favor,and she whimpers at the sight of Beca’s nude form on display, and she watches Beca get pushed onto the bed to lay down, and she watches the girl kiss her way down Beca’s body and lift Beca’s legs over her shoulders.

She watches it happen, and she hears it happening when the breeze is just right. It’s almost inaudible but Chloe’s listening for it, knowing when to expect it because she sees Beca’s mouth open and she waits for the sound to reach her ears and when it does, her own hand pushes between her legs. She watches it happen, and she happens with it.

* * *

Chloe’s consumed with thoughts. She _wants_. She’s been stupid horny since last night despite relieving herself (twice) while watching Beca’s encounter. Part of her wants to simply knock on Beca’s front door, grab her, kiss her, and drag her up to her room and fuck her senseless.

She is, however, fairly sure that isn’t the best idea.

To deal with her hormones, she does what she almost never does—makes a booty call, to her friend from the bar a few weeks ago. Thankfully, the girl’s down and she’s the one Chloe grabs at the front door, kisses, and drags her up to her room to fuck her senseless.

She has her pressed up against her bedroom window, and Chloe knows her curtain is open, and her light is on, and it’s dark outside, and she’s not going to lie to herself: she wants Beca to see. She doesn’t know exactly why, but she doesn’t question her desire.

But Beca’s light is on, which means she is, was, or will be in her bedroom, and Chloe’s purposely left her light on, and she lets her lover strip her of her blouse and then Chloe guides her head down to demand attention to her neck so she can see past her to Beca’s house.

When she opens her eyes, her moan is taken as appreciation by her lover, but it has nothing to do with the blonde.

Beca’s at the window.

Beca’s watching.

Beca’s touching herself.

* * *

To Chloe’s immense surprise, she receives a text from Beca the next day, early in the afternoon. It’s the first text she’s sent beyond the one she sent when she gave Chloe her number at Netflix night.

**_This is crazy awkward and idk how to say it so I’m just gonna say it_ **   
**_And I prob could have said something earlier..._ **   
**_But we both know what I saw last nite. And good for you, man!_ **   
**_But maybe like...just heads up that I can see into your room sometimes._ **

Chloe smiles at her phone.

_I know. ;)_

She knows it might be a risky reply, but she _likes_ Beca. Wants Beca to _like_ her. _Wants Beca_. She can’t play platonic neighbor forever if she’s going to get what she wants.

**_Oh. Ok. Yeah...just letting you know.  
_ ** **_As a courtesy._ **


	3. Chapter 3

Beca’s spent the better part of the afternoon kicking herself. She didn’t want to bring up The Incident with Chloe, but there was no way they weren’t both aware of what had happened last night. She knew she could never face her neighbor again if they didn’t acknowledge it and move on.

She didn’t expect Chloe to be almost flippant about the situation. Almost like she enjoyed knowing Beca saw.

She regrets shining the light on the matter, though. It means her voyeurism is going to end.

It’s past midnight when Beca makes her way upstairs. She’s not worried about what she’ll see tonight, because they texted, albeit briefly, about the matter, and she knows Chloe will heed her warning and keep that curtain closed.

Only before Beca’s even reached for her light switch she sees that she’s completely wrong.

Chloe’s curtain is wide open.

Her big overhead light is off, though her bedside lamp is on, Chloe’s nowhere to be seen. Beca rushes across the room to yank her blinds down, but the piece of shit cord won’t cooperate and only one side is coming down and she’s still fighting with them when she sees movement, and she glances to see Chloe wandering around her bedroom putting away laundry.

Beca tries to keep her focus on fixing her blinds as efficiently as possible but she sees Chloe slow to a stop and Beca knows she’s standing in front of her window. She only hopes her back is to it, but when Beca steals a glance, she can see that Chloe’s looking right at her, hands on the windowsill as she leans forward a little. Smiling. Smiling at Beca.

Beca forgets what her hands are trying to do when she sees Chloe start unbuttoning her shirt, and her blinds choose that moment, for better or worse, to finally respond and they crash down into place.

* * *

The next night, Beca waits until it’s after 1:00 am to venture to her room. She’s starting to feel like it’s a war zone, and she debates doing an Army crawl to enter unnoticed. Until she remembers she never reopened her blinds that morning for this exact reason.

She enters her room with confidence but something tugs at her wrist. Pushes at her back. Nudges at her feet. Until she’s spreading two slats of her blinds apart to look.

Chloe’s awake. She’s in bed, reading. Wearing glasses, Beca notes. She doesn’t seem to be wearing a shirt, a sheet pulled up and tucked under her arms. Beca swallows hard, unable to ignore the definition in the woman’s arms.

Chloe lifts her head and Beca yanks her hand away to let the blinds snap back together, and her heart races. It was one thing to happen upon something; it was a horse of a different color to be actively spying and get busted.

When her phone chimes in her pocket, she knows who it is before she even looks at it.

Chloe Next Door: **_Nighty night!_**

* * *

Beca’s started dreading going to bed. It’s near impossible to ignore the impulse to peek through the blinds. Her curiosity is killing her, and despite wanting this girl, her brazen [presumed] flirtation is almost too much for Beca to handle.

Almost.

She gives in on a Thursday night after staring at the ceiling for an hour. She knows Chloe’s up—the ambient light is visible despite her blinds because Chloe seems to refuse to ever have her curtain closed now, like she has a point to make.

So she rolls out of bed and considers crawling to the window, but she walks like an adult. She debates how to do it, how to see through her blinds without giving herself away. The distance between them and the window doesn’t work because the angle from either side is too steep to see straight across. But there’s a natural gap near the bottom that’s been there since they slammed down so she crouches to bring herself level with it.

She was right—Chloe’s still awake. She’s not in bed, though it looks like she was because her bedding is pushed back, though Chloe’s nowhere to be seen.

She reappears just when Beca feels disappointment sneaking in, but it’s replaced with a different type of disappointment when Chloe isn’t topless like she was the other night.

But the disappointment doesn’t last long, because despite being clothed, all she’s clothed in are a tiny pair of shorts and a matching tank that were obviously purchased as a set, and it lets Beca appreciate those toned arms again.

She watches Chloe crawl into bed and turn off her lamp, and she returns to her own bed, mind buzzing.

* * *

Beca blames her hormone cycle. In the morning she twists her blinds open—not up, just open to let the light through—with full intention to “forget” to close them later.

She leaves her own reading lamp on as she lays on her stomach in bed, reversed so her head’s at the foot where she can easily see into Chloe’s room, which, thus far, has been dark since Beca laid down at 10:33 pm. She has her laptop in front of her to avoid boredom as she waits, and it’s nearing midnight when the light comes on and Chloe appears.

Beca lifts her eyes just enough to watch through her blinds, and though her line of sight is repeatedly broken up by the slats, she can track Chloe’s movement, and she sees it slow to a stop in front of the window. Beca knows she’s looking her way; she kind of wants Chloe to know she’s there. That it’s possible that she can see Chloe.

She wants to know what would happen. If what Chloe seemed to tease the night she started unbuttoning her shirt at the window would happen again.

She can see Chloe at the window, closer, clearer. She’s rocking back and forth a little, and then Beca sees her arms cross at her waist and she lifts her shirt up and off in a move so smooth and confident it makes Beca’s jaw drop. Her bra is black. Maybe blue or purple. Her shorts are gray. Potentially lavender.

Chloe turns around and walks back to her bed, her back to the window, and Beca’s iMessage notification on her computer makes her jump.

**_Like what you see?_ **

Beca reads it three times to make sure she’s reading it right, and that the sender is actually ‘Chloe Next Door.’

She is, and it is.

Her hands hover over her keyboard. Her palms are sweating and she glances up to see Chloe back at her window. She’s just standing there. Waiting. There’s a square of light in her hand that Beca knows is her phone.

Beca chews on her lip, heart pounding. Chloe’s opened the proverbial door, and it’s up to Beca whether or not to enter.

_Maybe_

It’s noncommittal and a little safe just in case she needs to backpedal for any reason, in the unlikely but still possible event that she’s completely misread the situation and Chloe’s text is actually her way of telling Beca she’s a creeper. She’s still rereading the short text when another one pops up.

**_How bout now?_ **

She lifts her eyes and, “Shit…”

Chloe’s topless, and still standing in the window.

_Not bad._

She tries to play it cool and confident; she’s grateful she’s all but anonymous right now because she’s dying inside and could never carry on this type of communication if it had to be verbal and face to face. Not with this girl, who, in these short months of being neighbors, has managed to thoroughly ruffle her feathers.

**_I can feel you staring. Don’t lie to me._ **

Something in the tone of the text makes Beca’s heart pound.

_OK._

  
Her fingers type it before she was ready to and she curses at herself for it because now she has to follow it up with something relevant.

_Yeah. I like what I see._

She counts to three and then hits the Enter key with more force than necessary to send it.

**_I wish I could see you too._ **

Beca’s heart is in her throat. She didn’t expect this, any of this. And now Chloe’s, well she’s about three texts from turning this conversation into sexting and Beca’s pretty sure she wouldn’t care if she did. This is quickly becoming a YOLO situation, as much as she detests the phrase she respects its core meaning, and if Chloe’s into it…

_Oh yeah?_

**_Mhmm_ **

**_I’ve seen you before_ **

**_With your friend_ **

Beca inhales at the response. The “Mhmm” is suggestive and the fact that Chloe had indeed ended up seeing her reunion weeks ago makes her head spin.

**_Wouldn’t mind seeing you again tho_ **

**_Like right now_ **

The texts come in fast succession and Beca’s hands are trembling and her body’s on fire and the back of her neck is sweating and she can still see Chloe standing in the frame of the window, still topless, still rocking back and forth, face lit up brighter than the rest of her by her phone.

**_It’s only fair._ **

She doesn’t register that she’s even moving until she’s standing in front of her window, her fingers curled around the cord to her blinds. She hears her computer chime again and she has to turn back, opting to grab her phone instead to read it.

**_Open them_ **

Beca looks down at herself. She’s not wearing a single sexy thing—her T-shirt is too big and her sleep shorts have Spongebob on them. “One, two, three,” she says to herself and yanks the string on the blinds to lift them. It’s not as smooth as she would have liked, having to fight with them for a few seconds to get them to stay up, but when they do and she remembers the reason why she’s doing that at all, she drops her eyes and there’s Chloe, naked save for a pair of shorts.

And she waves at Beca, the same cute wave she does when they see each other outside or passing on the street. But then she’s gesturing at her, miming pulling off the shirt she removed from herself five minutes ago, and Beca realizes what she’s asking for.

Her phone dings.

**_Please?_ **

She cracks her knuckles with her thumb and then counts to three again and whips her shirt off before she can second-guess herself.

Chloe’s reaction is immediate; she hops a little and claps best she can with a phone in her hand, and the motion transfers to two specific areas of her body that Beca can’t help but stare at until she’s still and her phone chimes.

**_Oh my…_ **

**_No bra?_ **

Beca takes pride in the response—like Chloe wasn’t expecting her to go for it, or go for it to that degree. She hasn’t decided how to respond yet when more messages come through.

**_Your hot_ **

**_*You’re_ **

Beca sniffs a laugh at Chloe’s need to correct a typo in this particular contextual situation, and she finds it endearing.

_So are you_

It’s a weak response, and she recognizes she’s really letting Chloe carry this conversation, but she seems content in that role.

**_I think about you sometimes_ **

Beca looks up from her phone. Chloe’s innocent giddiness is gone again, and she’s staring at Beca like she was waiting for her to look at her, and the moment their eyes meet, Chloe’s hand is moving to her breast. It covers it and Beca nearly falls forward, her crazy pulse making her dizzy.

Chloe’s eyes drop and she’s texting one-handed.

**_Do you think about me too?_ **

**_Touching yourself when you saw me with Tara_ **

Beca blushes hard at being called out for it. Chloe hadn’t mentioned it when Beca had done the considerate thing and notified Chloe of her visibility. Obviously Chloe had offered her own consideration in not mentioning to Beca what _she_ saw.

Until now.

She’s glancing back and forth between her phone and Chloe, not sure what to do or say and Chloe’s still looking at her phone, typing, her left hand still idly caressing her breast.

_**You were wearing a shirt tho** _

_**I couldn’t see you** _

_**Like I can now** _

Beca knows what she’s implying; what she’s requesting. She looks up to see Chloe’s finished texting, at least for now, and she’s watching Beca expectantly. The moment their eyes reconnect Chloe gives a particularly obvious tug to the nipple she’s been toying with for however many minutes and Beca’s hand is on her own without conscious thought.

She sees Chloe react, eyes wide, lips pursed, and then eyes closed and mouth open and Beca imagines the sound that she just made and makes one of her own.

When Chloe opens her eyes again, she looks different. Hotter. Determined. It makes Beca feel weak in the knees and she watches Chloe toss her phone behind her onto her bed so she does the same. Chloe takes a step forward and she lifts her arm to lean against the window frame and her hand drifts from her left breast to her right and Beca toys with her own almost absentmindedly. It feels good, but watching Chloe is more pleasurable.

Her brain keeps trying to interrupt what’s happening, telling her she should be embarrassed, that for some reason this is wrong. But she shoves the thoughts away, burying them under the sound rationale that they are both consenting to this mutual voyeurism and Chloe’s appreciative and intense gaze spurs her to make the bold move to let her other hand sweep down over her stomach. Her thumb catches in the waistband of her shorts and she gives it the tiniest tug. She’s watched Chloe track her hand’s motion and as soon as it hooks in the elastic to pull it down one suggestive inch, Chloe turns away and is hurrying out of the room and Beca’s stomach drops.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck.” She feels like an idiot. She didn’t know she even _could_ take what was happening too far, but clearly she had. Her shirt is missing; she can’t remember where she dropped it because she wasn’t thinking when she took it off and it’s nowhere on the floor and her hands are rooting through her bedding for it and it’s _nowhere_ and she feels like she’s going to cry in humiliation and her doorbell rings.

She freezes. She imagined that.

It rings again and it’s followed by knocking.

She knows it’s Chloe. It has to be. Furious, probably.

Or maybe not, the other half of her brain battles back, the one that was in charge just a minute ago in front of the window.

The doorbell rings for a third and fourth time in quick succession and Beca finally finds her shirt under the edge of her bed and she runs down the stairs.

Her heart’s pounding and her body is still throbbing and she’s preparing herself for _whatever_ is going to be there, good or bad, and she hesitates, knowing Chloe is on the other side of the door she’s staring at. She has yet to put on her shirt; she’s just holding it and the part of her that’s scared thinks she should put it on, but the part of her that’s turned on thinks she should leave it off, so she compromises and just holds it against her chest.

At this point, what does it matter anyway?

“One, two, three,” she counts aloud quickly and then flips the deadbolt and jerks the door open.

Chloe’s standing barefoot on her welcome mat wearing a blue track jacket that’s only half-zipped and there’s clearly nothing underneath it, and they stare at each other for what both feels like an eternity and a nanosecond.

And then Chloe takes the step forward and pulls Beca right into a kiss that immediately steals her breath. She feels the shirt get yanked out of her grip and hears her front door close and she leans forward, conscious enough to reach and lock it and the motion gets Chloe pinned against the door and the realization of what’s happening finally hits home and Beca groans and presses her body up against Chloe’s.

She reaches for the zipper on the jacket and whips it down. She doesn’t even bother hesitating. Her hands run up Chloe to cover the breasts that, until this moment, she’s only seen from afar.

“Fuck…”

She’s never heard Chloe curse before, but it’s sexy as hell mumbled against her lips.

It’s her turn to swear when Chloe’s hands knock Beca’s out of the way and her breasts are in Chloe’s hands and Chloe capitalizes on her distraction. She pushes off the door and walks to force Beca backward and they’re heading for the stairs and Beca finds it awfully convenient that their floorplans are similar enough that Chloe knows where she’s going despite only ever seeing half of the lower level.

Lips are sucking on her neck hard enough that Beca barely notices the sharp pain that comes with her back getting slammed against the banister at the foot of the stairs. Her hands shove at the jacket, needing it off Chloe and Chloe finally gets the point and releases Beca long enough to let her yank it down her arms and throw it aside. Her arms are around Beca’s waist immediately to pull their bodies flush as she reconnects their mouths.

Beca’s had her share of hot and heavy hook-ups in her time, but none of them have been as intense as this, and she doesn’t know if it’s because of the build-up tonight or the build-up since she moved in or something else entirely but she feels like she’s simultaneously drowning, burning alive, and being resuscitated every time Chloe’s tongue twists around hers.

She feels hands on her ass and she’s being guided to take a step to her right to actually climb the stairs, and she’s never climbed stairs backward but it seems like she’s going to have to learn.

She makes it up four steps and is trying to find the fifth when Chloe’s hands hook into the waistband of Beca’s shorts to pull them down to her knees, making it impossible for her to lift her leg to climb that stair.

Hands run up her legs and one is back on her ass and Chloe’s lips are sliding down her neck very obviously heading for her breast and her other hand pushes between Beca’s thighs—

“Jesus, Beca,” Chloe says.

Beca knows what she’s referring to. She’s insanely turned on and she just moans and nods and pushes Chloe’s mouth the rest of the way to to her breast.

She’s never going to make it up the stairs now, not backward, not with her shorts around her knees, and definitely not with a hand between her legs. She tries to sit but Chloe wraps her arm around her waist and keeps her upright, instead turning her to press her into the banister again.

The movement is quick and it throws off Beca’s balance and other than the wooden beam pressing across her back there’s nothing behind her and she gets the distinct panic sensation that she’s going to fall at the same time that fingers press into her, but Chloe’s arm moves to hold her around her shoulders and she’s completely at the mercy of her neighbor. The precarious position sends adrenaline shooting through her and heightens everything she was already feeling.

Chloe isn’t being gentle. It’s not painful, but it’s rough, and her hips are adding force to what her hand is doing and Beca finally manages to get one of her feet out of her shorts and Chloe capitalizes on it immediately. She pushes Beca’s thigh with her hip and Beca gets the hint, moving her free foot up a step, creating more room for Chloe to work.

Beca’s restless; she moves with Chloe and her hands drag up her back to tangle into her hair and yank her up from where she’s been sucking at the swell of her breast to crash their mouths together again. She keeps Chloe occupied long enough to work her arm between them, which is no small feat because there’s really no space to be had until she gets the palm of her hand on Chloe’s stomach and Beca rolls her eyes because _of course,_ this chick has rock hard abs.

She marvels at them for a second before twisting her wrist to send her hand down into Chloe’s lavender shorts and the moan that hits her ears nearly makes Beca come apart. Chloe’s soaked and she bites Beca’s lip when she breaks the kiss to moan. Chloe didn’t hesitate and Chloe isn’t gentle, so neither is Beca and Chloe leans heavier into her.

The arm at Beca’s back, the one that’s saving her from potentially flipping right over the handrail, disappears and Beca sees it move instead to grip onto the polished mahogany.

Beca has to do the same to cut the fear that she’s going to fall, and for a second she can see herself like an out-of-body experience. Their positions mirroring each other, arms outstretched and hanging onto the balustrade for dear life. She’s naked. Chloe might as well be. Hands are between thighs and hips are thrusting and they’re staring at each other like they’re watching each other from their windows.

“I watched you fuck that girl.”

The voice reaches Beca’s ears and pulls her back into her body. “You did?”

Chloe nods. “Turned me on so much. I got myself off watching you. Twice.”

Beca doesn’t know how her body is even capable of generating more heat, but it does. “Fuck,” she says with a groan and Chloe shifts her angle a little and really starts hitting it right. “Fuck, that’s fucking hot.”

Beca’s rhythm falters and Chloe reaches for Beca’s hand to yank it out of her shorts. “Let me,” Chloe husks in her ear and drops her mouth to Beca’s neck, working it over as her hand moves furiously between Beca’s legs, and Beca’s grip on Chloe’s upper arms lets her feel how strong she is and how hard she’s working.

“Oh God,” Beca groans. She feels it, the coil tightening deep inside, threatening to break any moment. She’s teetering on the edge waging a battle with herself to fall over it or keep the reins tight to live in this heightened state of consciousness as long as possible.

“I listened to you come for that girl. I want to hear what you sound like when you come for _me_.” Chloe’s lips pull at her ear before teeth nip at it and Beca moans. “God, you sound so good.”

Beca feels her eyes rolling. She’s losing it, and Chloe’s filthy mouth is going to be her undoing. Beca’s not one to be quiet, but she’s not usually particularly loud either, but Chloe’s trying to make a point. Chloe wants to be better than someone else, and _fuck_ Chloe is better than anyone Beca can think of so she lets her know with an appreciative groan and then she’s throwing her head back, trusting Chloe to keep her upright, letting every possible sound that makes its way to her lips escape and Chloe’s echoing them like she’s getting just as much pleasure out of it.

But Chloe goes silent when Beca tenses in her arms, the spring finally snapping and Beca’s falling forward into her when she sees stars.

She’s vaguely aware that she’s being kissed and when the hand that’s been helping her come down from her high disappears, she’s able to return the kiss, and then she pulls back and opens her eyes.

Chloe’s looking at her with such lust that it makes her knees almost give out—or maybe it’s the lingering effects of her orgasm. Regardless.

“I’m going to take you upstairs and you’re going fuck me like I know you want to.” Chloe says it so hotly that all Beca can do is groan when a wet hand grabs her own and nearly drags her up the rest of the stairs to her room. “Yours is bigger than mine,” Chloe says observantly when they enter like they weren’t just and aren’t about to be fucking each other’s brains out.

“Is it?” Beca responds, and she considers laughing at the absurdity of this sudden friendly conversation as she finally kicks her shorts off her other foot. Instead of laughing she stalks forward and simply shoves Chloe into her bed and climbs up to follow her. The surprised little sound Chloe makes does things to Beca and she drops to capture her lips.

She can feel Chloe squirming beneath her but Beca’s hovering on her hands and knees and no matter how high Chloe lifts her hips she comes up short and Beca savors the power she’s wielding after being stripped of it on the staircase. She rips her mouth away and lets a smile play at her lips as she looks down at Chloe, who seems to be beyond frazzled. “Fuck you like you know I want to?”

Chloe nods quickly, adding a frustrated groan when another thrust of her hips comes up empty.

“And how do you think I want to fuck you?” She’s not usually quite this bold in bed the first time she’s with someone, at least not without several glasses of alcohol. But something about Chloe makes her feel like all bets are off. She waits until Chloe’s looking up at her again and Beca licks her lips.

“Christ. Just fucking go down on me.” Chloe’s pushing at Beca’s shoulders and her strength and Beca’s lack of desire to resist are a winning combination and Beca drops low enough to run her tongue down Chloe’s body as she’s pushed as far as Chloe can reach.

She moves the rest of the way of her own volition, her short fingernails dragging across Chloe’s skin that feels like it’s on fire until Beca’s kneeling on her bedroom floor. She hooks her fingers into Chloe’s shorts and slips them down her legs to run her hands up thighs that are so toned it should be illegal. She curls her hands under them and yanks to pull the girl closer, and the sudden jerk makes Chloe squeal in a way that’s so sexy it makes Beca groan and she doesn’t even bother to tease.

She just leans down and drags her tongue between Chloe’s legs. Chloe’s hips surge up to her with a moan and she pushes her back down to the bed. She’s still working on getting Chloe’s legs over her shoulders but she already has her flesh caught between her lips to grind her flattened tongue into it and it makes Chloe’s back arch.

Fingers twist into her hair and pull Beca in closer and she lets her own hands roam over Chloe’s legs and stomach and ribs and reach until her fingertips find Chloe’s breasts to squeeze and twist and it makes Chloe sit up a little.

Beca looks at her; she’s propping herself up on her elbows to look down and watch Beca, and Beca isn’t even surprised that Chloe wants to watch. Everything about their association thus far has been about watching each other and there’s something thrilling and even flattering about it.

It boosts her confidence and she sends a wink up at Chloe before reclaiming one of her hands to utilize it in a more intimate way. It’s satisfying when Chloe throws her head back at the press of Beca’s fingers, but she’s watching Beca again soon, and she’s chewing on her lower lip in a way that makes Beca’s stomach flutter and she twists her tongue to make Chloe’s jaw drop so instead of biting her lip she’s moaning.

Chloe’s legs shift, an absentminded twisting and spreading and squeezing and Beca feels her heels dragging up and down her back in a way that serves as an unnecessary but fully welcome reminder of what’s happening right now.

“Fuck, Beca, that’s so good,” Chloe says through a groan, and then there’s a loud catch in her breath and Beca knows she has her. She doesn’t falter in her rhythm or pressure; she just holds steady and looks up at Chloe and waits. Chloe’s moans have shifted to broken cries, and she’s barely looking at Beca now, and with a gasp, Chloe’s body freezes and Beca just keeps hold on her, knowing she’s going to snap.

And she does with a cry that makes Beca hum proudly. Chloe finally stops watching and falls back onto the bed again, hips lifting and twisting as it subsides.

Beca straightens and sits back on her heels, fingers easing Chloe down while Beca takes her turn at watching the way Chloe’s chest heaves as she fights for oxygen, how one hand is twisted in the quilt and the other is over her own forehead, eyes staring at the ceiling. Beca turns and presses a kiss to the side of Chloe’s knee that’s still over her shoulder and waits until she recovers.

“Get up here,” Chloe finally says. She still sounds winded and her voice doesn’t have the same chipper, clear tone it usually does. It’s rough and lower and Beca finds it incredibly sexy.

She eases out of the frame of Chloe’s legs and watches as Chloe drags herself higher on the bed so her legs aren’t hanging off it anymore, and then Beca follows. She keeps a cautious distance between them because while suspecting Chloe’s a cuddler in all scenarios, this entire situation blew up into some crazy porno encounter and Beca’s not about to assume anything about what happens next. She lays down, and a moment later Chloe’s on her side to tuck herself along Beca’s body, feet tangled, arm over her waist, and face sharing the pillow close enough that her breath tickles Beca’s ear. She recoils from it and scrunches her shoulder up to rub her ear against it and it makes Chloe laugh and tickle it all over again.

“So,” Chloe says once she’s finished laughing.

“So.”

“You okay with this?” Chloe squeezes her around the middle to indicate what she’s referencing. Beca lays her hand over Chloe’s forearm. “Not everyone’s a cuddler after.”

“I don’t know that I am.” Beca feels Chloe’s eyes on her and smiles. “But this is okay.”

Chloe sighs and it sounds happy and content. “Good.” There’s a beat. “So.”

Beca chuckles. “So. Yeah.”

“That was kind of amazing.”

Beca coughs and bites the inside of her cheek. She wants to not make some pompous comment right now because it’s a nice moment. She swallows it back and runs her hand down Chloe’s forearm and she slots her fingers between Chloe’s. Something about all this seems so _right_ despite the admittedly crazy way things have happened. “Yeah, it was.”

She feels lips on her shoulder, a kiss, followed by another kiss, and another, slowly working their way along the curve of her neck until Chloe’s propped up and looking down at her. “I know we haven’t spent a lot of time together,” Chloe starts, still playing with Beca’s fingers. “But I really like you.”

“Yeah? I couldn’t tell.” The sass is out of her mouth too fast to censor and she cringes but Chloe throws her head back and laughs.

“Was it that obvious?” She’s biting her lip again and Beca stares at it.

“It got pretty obvious with the window striptease. But that business on my stairs kind of erased any lingering doubts.”

Chloe jostles her playfully and Beca looks at up her, feeling utterly at peace and at home, and it’s unlike anything she’s ever felt after a hook-up. There’s no tension or awkwardness and she has no desire to make up an excuse that will get the girl out of her bed. “I like you, too,” she finally adds.

The comment makes Chloe light up and they’re kissing again, but not the rough, biting kiss of before. It’s slow and soft and Chloe’s tongue only grazes hers rather than the filthy things it was doing earlier.

“So what’s your last name, Beca?” she asks when they part. She’s still propped up to talk easily, and their fingers are still playing together.

“Mitchell. And you’re listed as Chloe Next Door in my phone.”

Chloe laughs. “It’s Beale. Beca Mitchell? I like that.”

“Well I’m kind of stuck with it, so,” Beca shrugs.

“So, Beca Mitchell.”

“That’s my name; don’t wear it out.”

Chloe rolls her eyes but keeps smiling. “Can I take you out to dinner sometime? It’d be the neighborly thing to do.”

Beca feels her stomach flutter in the same way it does when she sees Chloe bite her lip. “Like on a date?” Chloe nods. “You do realize you already got into my pants and don’t have to buy your way into them with dinner.” Chloe’s face falls and Beca realizes she’s made a horrible mistake. “No, no! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—I wasn’t saying no. Poor attempt at humor. I’m sorry. I do that sometimes.”

Chloe’s smile returns, though it’s a little tentative around the edges, and Beca feels terrible. “So is that a yes?”

Beca nods. “Yeah. That’s a yes.” Chloe’s smile is confident again and Beca reaches up to slide her fingers through that gorgeous hair and pull her down into a kiss.

Beca loves her new house.

Her new neighbor is pretty great, too.

_**The End** _


End file.
